The Trouble with Twins
by Cyber Raspberry
Summary: Lily and James Potter had one child, a boy, and they named him Harry. They didn't live long enough to raise him. Now, twins Harry James and Harry Severus meet for the first time at Hogwarts. Will they be friends or foes? WARNINGS: slash, AU, swearing.
1. The Boy in the Cupboard

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize it from J.K. Rowling's books, then it obviously isn't mine. This is inspired by _The Parent Trap_, and also has minor elements from _A Little Princess_ (regarding magic and how it works). No copyright/trademark infringement is intented.

**WARNINGS**: There is mild slash (RL/SB), mention of child neglect, swearing, and of course it's very AU. There are no OCs, but some minor canon characters are slightly expanded out of necessity.

**Regarding the point-of-view**: This is mostly in third person omniscient. However, some parts focus more on one character's experience, and resemble 3rd person limited more than third person omniscient. To make things less confusing, if the POV changes significantly, I will start a new chapter for it. I also tend to start new chapters when time skips ahead. Some chapters may be shorter than others because of this.

* * *

**Chapter 1 : The Boy in the Cupboard**

* * *

Harry Potter was a skinny little boy with bright, large green eyes, which were quite near-sighted and almost hidden behind a pair of ugly round glasses. He had a mop of very messy, very tangled black hair, scuffed elbows and knees, and a vivid scar on his forehead that resembled a lightning bolt. He was wearing hand-me-downs which had once belonged to his cousin, Dudley, and which were both too large for him and so worn that they resembled rags. In all, he was a pathetic, neglected little figure.

It was the expression on his face that made him all the more pathetic. He was looking down at his too-large shoes, through the holes in which his toes, blue from cold, protruded.

There was very little light in his cupboard, but there was enough to look at pictures by, and that is what he had been doing. He had one book, which was really not much of a book at all, but just the cover of one, with several torn pages inside, held together with bits of sticky tape. Still, it was his own, and it did have lovely pictures.

The fact of the matter was, however, that even reading could not take his mind off the cold tonight. It was the coldest night of the year. His cupboard was bare except for a thin mattress with many broken springs, and only one thin blanket. His clothes, ragged as they were, were not warm enough to make a difference.

"It's okay, Harry," he murmured tiredly. "It must be nearly morning. Aunt will let us out soon, and we can stand close to the stove and hold our hands out, and won't that be wonderful?"

The child often talked to himself in this odd manner. He was hardly ever spoken to by his Aunt and Uncle, except to be yelled at, and at some unknown time far back before he could remember, he had invented a little fantasy to help him through the lonely hours spent in his cupboard. He didn't think he could have lived with the Dursleys if not for the other Harry. Sometimes he seemed quite real. Just now, with the light so dim and the wind howling over the roof far above his head, and the dreadful cold, he thought he could almost see a little boy next to him, smiling encouragingly and nodding as if he agreed that it had to be nearly morning and nearly time for someone to come down and open the cupboard door.

He wasn't mad. In the daytime, and when he was not so hungry and cold, he knew very well that there was no other little boy. It was only when things were at their bleakest that he thought he almost believed it. He was, after all, only five years old, and perhaps if he had had a teddy bear or a velvet rabbit or a doll, he might have almost believed that they were real, too.

He wiped a tear that had escaped from the corner of his eye. He was still staring at his shoes in a sort of stupor.

"Oh," he said suddenly, a few minutes later. "It is getting warmer, isn't it? I think I can sleep now. Do you think you can, Harry? I feel like I could sleep forever, I'm so tired."

He was, sadly, more right that he could have known. His small body had stopped shivering, but it was not because it was no longer cold in the cupboard. The cold was lulling him into a dangerous doze.

Curling up on his side, he drew the blanket around himself. "Good night, Harry."

He imagined he heard an answer, just as his eyes fell closed.


	2. On Privet Drive in the Dead of Night

**Chapter 2 : On Privet Drive in the Dead of Night**

* * *

A thousand miles away in a castle in Scotland, a man sat up in bed, for a moment not understanding what had pulled him out of sleep. His sharp black eyes darted around his bedroom, his hand clenched around a wand, until finally he found the source of the disturbance.

He frowned, but he wasted no time getting out of bed and walking over to the fireplace. There, on the mantle, was a spindly silver instrument. It was vibrating, just a little, and making the sound he had heard.

His frown turned into a scowl.

Most likely the brat had wet the bed, or wanted a glass of water, or something of that sort. The other detectors showed no activity and no disruptions in the wards. Whatever was wrong with the brat, it was something mundane.

Still, his instructions were clear. Any alarm had to be investigated. Albus hadn't mentioned anything about the instrument vibrating like this, so gently that it was almost imperceptible, but the old man often omitted details. It was better to go and make sure nothing was amiss, than to be later accused of ignoring an alarm.

With an annoyed huff, he pulled on his clothes and heavy traveling cloak. What a lot of bother. He should have spent the holidays at his house instead of at the school, and then Albus would have had to find someone else to keep an eye on the Potter brat at all hours of day and night.

He shivered despite his warm clothes as he left his room and walked through the dark dungeon corridors, not bothering to light the torches. He cast a warming charm around himself as he left the castle, stomped over the crusty, crunchy snow to the edge of the wards, and Apparated.

There it was, Number 4, Privet Drive. He had been there once before. All Order members had been, in case they ever had to respond to a genuine alarm. It was an ordinary Muggle house that looked no different than any other Muggle house on the same street.

No lights were on.

He had Apparated with discretion and did not need to worry about being noticed by Muggles, though there was no one around to notice him. He simply walked up to the house and let himself in.

It was silent.

Just as he'd known, he had come for nothing. Still, he supposed he ought to actually see the brat before he left. He sniffed irritably.

Creeping up the stairs, he stopped in the upstairs hallway. There were three closed doors, as well as an open one that led to a bathroom.

"_Point me_."

His wand spun in his palm, the tip smacking into a silver button on his cloak as it pointed at his chest. He frowned at it. There was nothing in back of him but the stairs.

Probably the brat had fallen asleep on a couch. He went back down as silently as he had come up.

"_Point me_."

How infuriating! The ridiculous thing was pointing at his chest again, and there was nothing in back of him but the damn stairs.

Perhaps it was the wards interfering. He would try a different spell, and if that did not work he would search the house.

He cast a charm that sent a wisp of light from his wand, tracing a path to where the infernal brat was. It did not float up the stairs, but to the side, and stopped only a few feet from where he was standing.

Fine, he would search without magic, then. Albus hadn't mentioned anything about magic not working properly in the house. The old man could be really infuriating with his tendency to forget such relevant details.

He was about to start up the stairs again, intending to search the bedrooms first, as was logical, when he noticed a narrow, low door set in the wall of the staircase. Curiously, it was at this door, which he had not noticed then, that the wisp of light had stopped.

He approached it with caution. Not because he thought it posed a danger to him, but because already in the back of his mind there was an uncomfortable twinge. What if, it seemed to be asking him, you find the brat behind this door? What would that mean? Surely that was a cupboard. Any fool could see that it was.

There was a tiny, barred window on the door. He swallowed. He hated to open that door. He really didn't want to find what his mind was suggesting he might find behind it.

He opened it.

It was too dark to see in, and he lit his wand for the first time.

There, on a dingy mattress, entirely covered by a dingy, thin blanket, was a small lump. Two tatty shoes with holes in them poked out from beneath the blanket. The toes sticking out through the holes were a sickening shade of blue.

In a kind of stupid panic, he grabbed the child and shook him, and that was how he found that the child still lived. Relief flooded over him, as much for the brat as for himself, because what would Albus do if the brat died after Severus had been charged with watching out for him?

Still, the boy did not wake, and given how hard he had shaken him, it was not a good sign.

He was not a healer and had little formal training, but knowledge of certain spells and charms had always proved useful to him. He cast two now, one a simple diagnostic spell and the other a strong warming charm that penetrated beyond the surface of the skin.

He could see now that it was cold that had caused the deep sleep, and that it had been a close brush with disaster. He cast another warming charm, this time on the mattress and the blanket and the clothing the boy wore... if what he wore could be called clothing.

This done, he stared at the boy with dismay. What was he supposed to do now? Albus was completely unreachable. He didn't even know where Minerva was, or Pomfrey, or... or anyone, really. It was the winter holidays, for Merlin's sake. Everyone was off doing whatever it was people did over the holidays. Hogwarts was completely empty, as there had been no students who chose to stay this year. He didn't even know how to reach the Order, unless he sent his Patronus out, and who knew who would show up? How would Albus feel about Aurors at the Dursleys? And wouldn't they report the boy's condition? They were Oath-bound to. What then?

Torn between knowing that he could not simply shut the cupboard door again and call the situation handled, and knowing that the boy had to stay with Petunia, he spent the next couple of minutes sitting there with the boy half in his lap, completely unable to think of a good course of action.

He sat there for so long, in fact, that the boy woke up.

For a brief moment, startlingly green eyes looked straight into his. Lily's eyes. They so stunned him that he did not react even when the boy scrambled back, away from him, whimpering in terror.

He shook his head to clear it. "I will not hurt you."

The boy ducked his head into his arms, drawing up his knees. He seemed to be trying to press himself right through the wall.

"I... I..." Severus's mind was completely blank. He could only think that the boy was about to start howling, which would bring the Dursleys down, and if anything would make all of this even worse, it was Petunia. "I'm a friend of your mother," he said without meaning to.

The boy stilled.

Slowly, reason returned to him. He didn't have to do anything now. The boy wasn't being beaten; the spell had shown no injuries that would suggest that. Severus could see very well that the boy was too thin, and of course everything else simply screamed intolerable neglect, but he could do something for that, and he didn't have to take any other action until he could let Albus decide on what was best.

"I... er... I knew you were ill and came to see you."

The boy raised his head slightly. "My Mum?"

"Yes," Severus said reluctantly. Of course that would be what the brat latched on to. "You see, she asked me to look in on you once in a while."

That wasn't true, of course, but it was close enough. He had taken a Vow, after all, and he was tasked with checking on the boy if the alarms went off. And there was the other thing... the thing he had promised Lily.

"Now, you mustn't make a noise. I will improve your bed, and your clothes, too. You will see a light."

Keeping one eye on the boy, he waved his wand, casting more spells. They were just simple transfigurations and charms that left the mattress and blanket and rags looking as they had before, but in truth softer and warmer.

The brat's eyes were as large as saucers. "That's... that's..."

"Magic, yes." Severus frowned slightly. He recalled how Lily's sister hated magic, and suddenly he wished he had not done the spells in front of the boy.

"Magic isn't real," the boy whispered. His face had gone absolutely pale. "Magic isn't allowed."

"Did your Aunt tell you that?"

The boy nodded.

"Magic is real, I assure you. Your mother was a witch and I am a wizard." He hesitated. He had been about to add that the boy, too, was a wizard, but looking at his face it seemed clear that would be the wrong thing to say. "Are you warmer now?"

"Yes, thank you." The boy's voice was still barely audible.

Severus knew he should not linger. He should do what needed to be done, and leave. What about the boy, though? It was obvious he knew nothing of magic or the wizarding world, and what if he blabbed about it? True, young children talked nonsense all the time, but if what the boy's words and fear suggested about his relatives was true....

"You mustn't tell anyone I was here. Or about the magic."

The boy shook his head so hard his hair whipped his cheeks. He looked absolutely terror-stricken. "Oh no! Oh, no, I won't tell! Magic isn't allowed!"

Somehow, instead of reassuring him, this only made Severus angry. How could Albus have allowed this? Had he never checked on the boy?

Now that he had done magic, there was no reason not to do more. With a flick of his wand he summoned a vial of Pepper-up from his cabinet back at Hogwarts. It appeared out of thin air with a soft pop, levitating long enough for him to take it.

"Drink this."

The boy obeyed him almost before he had finished speaking.

He wanted to summon a nutrient-replenishing potion, but he had none in his own stores, and didn't want to try summoning anything from the infirmary. Though he brewed most of the potions she used, how the nurse organized her cabinets was her own business, and while he knew she had the potion, a summons over such a great distance should ideally be more specific. Instead, he summoned a cup of warm pumpkin juice and a large slab of Honeydukes chocolate.

The boy's eyes went even wider, if possible, at the sight of the food.

Severus peered around the small space. "Is there some place you could keep a bit extra?"

"There." The boy pointed to a box in a corner. It was full of rags, as well as a tin cup and a tattered book. "No one ever looks there."

Severus broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it and the cup to the boy. The rest, still in the wrapper, he shoved to the bottom of the box.

By the time he looked up, which was really only a few seconds later, there was not one crumb or drop left.

He caught himself thinking of summoning more food to leave for the boy, as he was not sure when he would be able to reach Albus, but did not. He knew from personal experience the proper way of hiding food. Too much and it would be found.

He stood up. It was time to leave, he knew. He had been there entirely too long. "I cannot stay longer."

The Potter brat just stared at him.

"Good bye."

He turned away.

"Wait."

He looked over his shoulder at the boy, who had clambered over the mattress and was kneeling in the doorway of the cupboard.

"Are you... are you like a fairy godmother? Was all of this my wish?"

Severus snorted. "Hardly."

He turned away again, forcing his feet forward, toward the door.

"Wait," the boy said again. "My mum...."

He froze. That again. He never should have told the brat that. What had made him do it?

"Can you tell me what she looked like?"

Whatever he had expected, that wasn't it. "Hasn't your aunt ever shown you a picture?" It was a completely unnecessary question. He already knew.

"No, never."

Severus swallowed. He closed his eyes. He could see her face so clearly. So clearly it hurt. "She had eyes like yours."

"Was she very pretty?"

"Yes," he said, swallowing again. He could not bear it. Resolutely, he forced himself to move again.

There was silence in back of him, but he could still feel those eyes staring at him. Lily's eyes.

He stopped. His hand had closed over his heart of its own accord, but he was trying to force it down again, because he couldn't... He _wouldn't_....

With a resigned sigh, he turned around and walked back over to the boy, who shuffled back quickly, vanishing into the cupboard.

It took him at least a minute to bring himself to do it. He didn't want to, and that was the truth. Whatever was making him do it was a part of him that he didn't want to acknowledge. This was the Potter brat, for Merlin's sake!

"Here," he said roughly, finally accepting his loss. He took out of an inner pocket a photograph, yellowed with age and crinkled at the edges. He held it against the wall of the cupboard on the same side as the door, so that someone looking in could not see it, but at eye-level of the boy as he sat on the mattress. With a wave of his wand he attached it with a permanent sticking charm.

"My Mum?"

"Yes."

He took one last look at her face. She was no older than seventeen, her long hair in braided loops that had once been a popular style. She was smiling in a sweet, friendly way that made him ache with longing for the days when that smile had been for him. Even in the faded photograph, her eyes were brilliantly green, so like the boy's.

Unable to stand it one moment longer, he spun around and stalked from the house, not stopping until he had reached the sidewalk and could Apparate away.

In the cupboard, Harry was still sitting exactly as Severus had left him. He could not take his eyes off the photograph.

The poor child had suffered so much stress in the last hour that it was no wonder his mind was quite muddled. He giggled nervously, and found himself hardly able to stop.

"Mum. That's Mum." He wanted desperately to share her with someone who would understand. He wanted to share the joy of seeing her and knowing her. "Oh, Harry, that's Mum!"

Then he buried his face in the warm blanket and cried.


	3. The Old Man, the Promise, and the Vow

**Chapter 3 : The Old Man, the Promise, and the Vow**

* * *

"I see." Albus's blue eyes were not twinkling. He peered at Severus over the rim of his half-moon spectacles.

Severus stayed silent. He just finished delivering his report, and didn't feel there was anything to add.

Albus sighed. "Thank you, Severus. It will be taken care of."

Good. He could put it out of his mind now. His conscience was clear.

He nodded curtly, and as he was not needed for anything else, turned smartly on his heel and left the Headmaster's office.

There were potions to brew and lessons to plan, classes to teach and detentions to supervise, and it was four weeks before he knew that he could not put it out of his mind after all. His conscience prickled uncomfortably.

There was something that still bothered him, he supposed, about the fact that Albus had appeared to have never checked on the boy in all the past years.

On a moonless night in early February, while the Headmaster left to handle an urgent call from the Minister, Severus stole silently across the school grounds and Apparated to Privet Drive once more.

He stood for a long time on the sidewalk, staring at the house. He felt guilty being there. Did he not trust Albus Dumbledore? What did he hope to find here? It would be all very well if he found the boy in changed circumstances, because then he would only have his own lack of trust to castigate himself for, but what if...? That twinge in the back of his mind was back again, asking him what he would do if he opened that door and found what he didn't want to find.

He let himself in. He didn't cast any spells, but simply forced himself to not pause, not think, not doubt, but to walk over to the cupboard and throw open the door.

He stared.

What did it mean that he felt no shock? No surprise. Not even disappointment. It was like he had already known what he would find when he opened that door.

The boy slept on the same dingy, broken mattress, under the same dingy, thin blanket. There was still a box in a corner, filled with rags and a tin cup and a tattered book held together with tape.

The boy was shivering. Most charms tended to wear off with time, even strong ones, and his had not been overly strong. He had not thought they would need to last so long. The cupboard was like an ice chest. The blanket was just a blanket again, neither warm nor soft, and the mattress was full of sharp, protruding springs.

He turned his head, fearing that the photograph, too, was gone, as were all the other signs that he had ever visited the boy. It was still there, and Lily still smiled, like an angel watching over her sleeping child. Her brilliant green eyes seemed to pierce his and look down into his very soul.

It was a final, desperate move, because he he still didn't want to believe, but he cast a spell to find out if any magic had been done in the cupboard or on the boy since he had been there. There had not.

The boy stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes, though Severus had made no sound that could have woken him.

"Oh," he breathed. His eyes were slightly clouded, and it was not from sleep but with fever. "Oh, it was true... it was." He stared at Severus as if he could not stare at him long or hard enough. "The magic."

Whatever he was going to do now that he had opened the door, he had best begin it.

He waved his wand and the warming spells were set again. He summoned potions, food, and hot drink. He felt like he was in a sort of dream, acting mechanically while his mind whirled in a thousand different directions.

"I knew you'd come."

Severus came back into himself with a jolt. What had the brat said? Oh. He frowned. "What?"

"She asked you to come." The boy smiled in a way that suggested to Severus that he was more ill than first thought, or that the potions hadn't had time to work. "I understand now."

"Understand what?" Severus asked irritably. He was trying to remember where precisely he had placed the milder restorative, which was the only kind he dared use on such a small child without a healer present.

"Why you came, of course." The dreamy smile got dreamier still. "It's the magic. The magic doesn't let the very worst things happen."

Severus stared at him, dumbfounded. "Er... Lie back. You need more potions."

He finally remembered where the potion was, on the third shelf next to the frog legs, and summoned it. Potter's eyes took on a more normal appearance.

"Eat. I suppose your relatives still don't feed you properly?"

He didn't need the boy to answer. He could see quite well for himself.

The boy stared at the wall while chewing hot buttered toast. He didn't answer at all.

"I will leave more food this time," Severus said. He supposed he could manage to add a false bottom to the box the boy was using to store his meager belongings, and ward it against Muggle eyes. It was a complicated set of transfigurations and charms, and not at all his area of expertise, but he did know the basics of creating wizard space, and it was just a small box. "The blanket will stay warm longer, too."

"Oh." The boy twisted the corner of the blanket in question. "Aunt washed it."

"That won't matter. The magic will be stronger this time."

The boy's eyes watched him as he worked, taking it all in. He no longer seemed to be terrified of the magic. He just watched silently.

"There," Severus said when he finished. He said it more because he was growing uncomfortable under the boy's gaze than to signify that he was done working, because the boy could see that for himself.

"Thank you." He said it very softly. His eyes had grown large again. Large and haunted.

"What is it?" Severus asked, frowning at him.

"You won't come back anymore, will you?"

Severus opened his mouth to say that no, he wouldn't need to, but the words didn't come. He would need to. He couldn't, and wouldn't, confront the old man again, now that he knew the truth. The food he had left would last a week, maybe two if the boy made it last, which with such a young child was unlikely. He would have to come back then.

"It's okay," the boy assured him. Only his eyes said otherwise. "Thank you for everything. I'm glad Mum asked you to come."

He swallowed and turned away. He couldn't stop himself from squeezing his eyes shut. He could hear her voice echoing in his mind, and the knowledge that her face was looking at him out of the photograph on the wall added a layer of pain to the ache already settled in his chest.

_I forgive you, Sev, I do. Oh, I wish things could be the way they were before, but we are on different sides, and how can I trust that you won't hurt the people I love? I know you would never hurt me. What about my child, Sev? Would you let them hurt my child?_

He had promised her, then, that he would never let them hurt the child she carried. The thing that was only a small lump under her dress had not been real to him then, and he was already working for Dumbledore. They _were_ on the same side, though she did not know it. It hadn't been a difficult promise to make, when it meant that for a brief moment, Lily smiled at him again like she used to when they had been young. That had been the last time he had seen her.

It hadn't been an Unbreakable Vow. He had made that later, to Dumbledore, and it had been easier to do so because of his promise to her. He always thought that it would be far easier to break the Vow than to break that promise, though the terms of both were the same.

Protect her child from harm.

That's what he had promised to do. Not one of them, not Lily or Dumbledore or Severus himself, had thought he was promising to protect the child from the Light, but neither his promise to Lily nor his Vow to Dumbledore had specified whom he had to keep the child safe from. Only that he would not let her child be harmed.

With a shiver, he wondered if the feeling that had been nagging him since that day in the Headmaster's office, not letting him rest, not letting him forget, was not the Vow asserting itself. Telling him he was dangerously close to breaking it. Pulling him back to Privet Drive. He was feeling it now, still.

He opened his eyes, but not before Lily's voice drifted one more time across his memory.

_I believe you._

"I will come back."

A smile lit up the boy's face. It was the first time Severus had seen him smile, and it was with a fresh stab of pain that he recognized the smile as hers. Lily's smile.

Disturbed, he stood up quickly. "Good bye."

"Good bye," the boy echoed. He sat on the mattress and watched Severus leave.

When the door had shut and silence had fallen once again over the house, Harry allowed himself another happy smile. He wished he had someone to share this wonderful new feeling with. This feeling of someone caring enough to come to see how he was doing. "I like him. Do you like him, too? I hope he'll come again soon."


	4. A Terrible Night at the Burrow

**Chapter 4 : A Terrible Night at the Burrow**

* * *

It was spring. Everything was bright and alive after the long, particularly harsh winter.

And Severus still did not know what he could do.

"Why do magic pictures move?"

The boy was sitting in the center of the mattress, eating warm buttered toast and staring at Lily's photograph on the wall.

"Because they're magic," Severus said. That was the only explanation he could think of, though he knew how it was done, of course.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. They wouldn't be magic if they didn't move. Then they would be just like any other pictures."

Severus stood up. "I cannot stay longer."

Large green eyes gazed up at him just like always, looking too serious. "Will you come back?"

"Yes. I will come back."

But how many more times? Until the boy started school? That time was nearly six years away.

"Will you bring me a chocolate frog?"

"I will."

He left the house and Apparated to the edge of the wards. There, he paused to breathe the fragrant night air.

He couldn't do this for the next six years. He couldn't think that Albus wouldn't notice. It was a risk every time he went to Privet Drive.

"Out for a midnight stroll, Severus?"

He jumped and whirled around, his heart pounding. For a terrible moment he completely lost all reason, his eyes darting from the werewolf to the half-full moon in the sky with the kind of incomprehension born of utter terror.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

His breath was coming out in sharp gasps. "What are you doing here?"

"Out for a midnight stroll," Lupin replied maddeningly. He looked up at the moon and stared at it for a while. "It's lovely tonight."

For just one moment, Severus wished it _was_ a full moon, and he could hex the bastard where he stood. Lupin had very clearly sneaked up on him on purpose. _Clearly_.

In complete silence, they walked together toward the castle. There was not much choice in the matter.

"Just one moment."

They had reached the castle door and he had been about to stalk off to the safety of the dungeons. He paused with his wand out and almost touching the ancient lock.

When he didn't turn around, Lupin sighed. "I _am_ sorry, Severus. It would have been impossible not to let you know I was there, and I rather figured you would hex first and ask questions later if you noticed someone following you silently up the road."

He didn't deign this worthy of a reply. After a few moments of silence, Lupin seemed to understand that.

"I'm only here to pass on a message to the nurse, and then I will be gone. You need not worry."

"I was not worried," Severus snapped, barely holding on to his temper. He turned to face Lupin reluctantly. "The nurse isn't here."

Lupin frowned. "Do you know when she might be back?"

"I don't."

Lupin continued to frown.

"Well? What is it?" Severus asked impatiently. Lupin was wasting his time. He wanted to get a few hours of sleep before he had to get up for his first class, and the night was half over already.

"One of Molly and Arthur's children has fallen ill. They couldn't get a response from St. Mungo's, and he wasn't well enough to travel. They tried to firecall, but..."

"Albus is out and Hogwarts is off the floo network tonight, yes," Severus finished. He gritted his teeth.

"I suppose I will go ask Minerva...." Lupin looked a bit lost.

"Oh," Severus spat savagely, "don't bother!"

With that, he spun around and started walking back to the nearest Apparition point.

It was not long before he heard Lupin's steps catch up and slow down behind him. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

"But... you're not a healer."

"Shut up, Lupin." What did Lupin know about it? With the nurse gone and St. Mungo's not responding -- Severus thought suddenly that Albus's rapid exit that evening might be connected -- he was the one Minerva would have sent out to the Burrow anyway. He figured he had just saved himself a quarter hour of time that would have been taken up by unnecessary explanations, and saved Minerva from being woken up at two in the morning. Not that anyone would ever thank him. "And don't follow me."

If Lupin replied, Severus did not know it. He reached the edge of the wards and Apparated.

There were wards around the Burrow, too, and he found himself stalking through a field of tall grass, barely able to see above it.

"Wait, Severus."

He couldn't see Lupin, but he could hear him thrashing through the grass somewhere off to the left. "I told you not to follow me."

He distinctly heard Lupin sigh.

The house appeared quite suddenly in front of him. He supposed he had not been paying attention.

It was lit up like a holiday tree. It seemed that every window was flooded with light. A bit of dread stirred in his stomach. How badly ill was the child? Lupin was right, he was not a healer.

The door was thrown open almost before he knocked. It was the eldest child, Bill, who stood in the doorway. He took one look at his Potions professor and took off running, yelling for his father. The sight of him made Severus feel decidedly worse. Clearly it was bad if the Weasleys had brought their children home from Hogwarts.

Within moments, Arthur came hurrying down the narrow stairs. His hair was untidy and his eyes dark rimmed.

Severus stood silently in the doorway. He knew the Weasleys from a handful of Order meetings, and he taught their two eldest children, but that was all he could say about it.

"I could not get the nurse," Lupin said, appearing without warning at his side. It was disconcerting that Severus was feeling sudden gratitude for his presence. "Albus is away."

Severus could see Arthur sizing him up. He held his head a little higher.

"My son is ill. Can you help him?"

"I will try."

"Are you a healer?"

"No." He suddenly felt that that was inadequate. "But I do have experience and some training."

That was overstating matters by quite a stretch.

"Come upstairs," Arthur said. Severus reckoned it was only a parent's desperation that was gaining him entry. "It's Percy who is ill."

It seemed as though dozens of small red-headed children were peering at him from doorways, though Severus knew quite well that the Weasley household consisted of only seven children.

In a cramped bedroom into which he was led, Molly sat next to a bed, stroking back damp hair off a young boy's brow, completely unconscious of the tears streaming down her face. Severus searched his memory but found he did not know how old the child was. Older than the Potter brat, he guessed, and not old enough for Hogwarts.

Molly looked up at him. Unlike Arthur, she neither sized him up nor questioned him, but only looked at him with pleading eyes.

He approached the bed, aware now of a terrible sound filling the small room. The sound of someone unable to draw enough air into his lungs.

"How long has he been like this?"

"He woke with a fever yesterday." It was Arthur who answered. Molly covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob. "We kept him in bed, but by nightfall he was having difficulty breathing, and we tried to contact St. Mungo's."

Severus pushed aside the quilt.

He snatched his hand back quickly as something furry scrambled to find new cover.

"I'm sorry," Molly said, sniffling. "That's Percy's rat. He begged to have it near, when he was still able to speak to us."

Severus refrained from commenting. He shoved the rat aside and unbuttoned the boy's shirt. The small chest rose too rapidly and too shallowly. The sound coming from inside was a far worse sign than his gasping breaths.

"Could he have ingested something?"

"Percy? No. If it were any of the others...."

He took out his wand, aware of Arthur still looking at him warily, and waved it over the boy. He would start simply.

Three more spells followed the first, and he frowned as he reached the last. There were many diagnostic spells. He only knew these four.

"I cannot find what precisely is wrong with him," he admitted. "I can treat the symptoms, and that will buy time. I will need some things." When they did not object, as he had half expected them to, he listed what he would need.

Molly stood up shakily. "I will get the water and the bowls. Dear?"

"I will get the rest," Arthur said. He looked at Severus and then at his son. "Wait a moment, Molly."

Severus tried to ignore the whispers in the hallway. He could guess quite readily what they meant, and was entirely unsurprised when Lupin appeared in the doorway, come to watch over the Death Eater.

"Go ahead, Molly," Lupin said pleasantly.

She left, and Lupin approached him, though he said nothing. They were both aware of why he was there, and there was nothing that needed to be said.

Still, it did rub like sandpaper over a sore spot. Lupin, too, was a monster, after all, and Severus didn't think the Weasleys knew Lupin that much better than they knew him.

"Here, Lupin, be useful, at least," he said irritably, shoving the rat, which had attempted to crawl under the quilt again, into Lupin's hands. He turned back to the boy without bothering to see if Lupin had dropped it in surprise. "Take this dirty thing away. I've half made up my mind that it's to blame. Filthy common garden vermin. It isn't even magical."

Lupin said absolutely nothing, which was fine with Severus. He had summoned three potions and was trying to recall if he had moved the fever reducer to the fourth shelf, or if it was still on the bottom shelf because he'd needed room on the fourth for the Dreamless Sleep.

"Severus."

Lupin's voice had been so low and odd that Severus paused for a moment before turning to look at him.

He blinked, his mouth shutting over the sneering remark he had been about to make.

Lupin stood in exactly the same spot as before, his face ashen and twisted in pain. The rat was clenched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white. And it was gnawing... it was _gnawing_ on his other hand, writhing and biting, and blood dripped down his wrist and soaked his sleeve and dripped from his elbow onto the floor.

"Would you like me to hex it?" Severus asked in what he hoped was an appropriately sarcastic tone, when he had recovered himself. His opinion of Lupin dropped another notch, which he wouldn't have thought possible. What kind of idiot stood there, making absolutely no noise, with a rat reducing his fingers to bloody tatters, rather than flinging it against the nearest wall and following up with an appropriate curse?

"Severus," Lupin repeated. Speaking seemed to be a great effort. "I will test your potion. I will do whatever you want me to do. If you help me with something."

Severus stared at him. Perhaps he was being uncharitable. Maybe Lupin was in shock. "Would that something have to do with you about to lose the use of your thumb?"

Lupin winced, but somehow his strange, entirely inappropriate composure remained in place. "I need a vessel of some kind. A box. Anything. Heavily warded. Unbreakable. Nothing should be able to get out."

There was a rasping sound from the bed, and Severus looked down quickly at the child he had momentarily forgotten. He didn't have time for whatever stupidity Lupin was up to. With a wave of his wand, he summoned a container he commonly used to contain pixies, when he needed their wings. The rat, which did not even look magical, had no chance of escaping it. He reckoned nothing much did.

"Is it unbreakable?"

"Unbreakable, spell-proof, sound-proof, and every other kind of proof there is," Severus said shortly, not appreciating at all the way Lupin was wasting his time. Over a _rat_, for Merlin's sake.

"Can you spell it in?"

With an exaggerated sigh, Severus flicked his wand at the rat, and the next moment it was writhing in terror at the bottom of the container, quite helpless.

"Thank you," Lupin breathed, sinking down into the chair Molly had previously sat in. He held his bleeding hand against his chest, but his other hand stretched out towards the container. "May I have it?"

"Help yourself." Severus shoved the container at him. Despite telling himself he absolutely did not care, he watched out of the corner of his eyes as Lupin shrunk it and pocketed it.

He turned his attention back to the boy at last, and looked him over carefully for any change, but the boy was not remarkably worse than before.

He looked at Lupin again. "Are you planning on bleeding to death?" he inquired in an overly curious tone. In truth, he was slightly alarmed by the sight of Lupin's mangled hand and the amount of blood pooling on the floor.

Lupin winced. His eyes were looking a bit glazed.

With a sigh that needed no exaggeration, Severus summoned bandages and a blood replenisher.

A few minutes later when Molly and Arthur returned, Lupin was more or less patched up, his hand bandaged thickly.

Molly yelped when she saw the blood, while Arthur stopped short, his eyes darting from Lupin to the blood and then, maddeningly, to Severus.

"Molly, Arthur, I'm terribly sorry. It was entirely my fault," Lupin said in a tone that was so pathetically apologetic that it made Severus a little sick to his stomach. "Percy's rat... it bit me. I'm... I'm terribly sorry." He made a useless sort of gesture with his uninjured hand.

Fortunately for Lupin, neither Molly or Arthur cared what had happened beyond that it had not happened to their child. And, Severus supposed bitterly, that it had not been done by the Death Eater.

He studied Lupin's face out of the corner of his eyes. He didn't care one whit what Lupin was up to, he decided. He just wished Lupin would be up to it somewhere else, instead of getting in his way.

"I gave him two potions," he said to Molly and Arthur. "There's no change. If you will mix this salve into hot water, we will attempt to relieve the congestion in his chest. This bowl will do. We will need some cloths about the size of a handkerchief."

Next came two more potions, the powdered bezoar, then the aloe and thyme, and finally, just as he was feeling rather desperate, it was the nightshade that did it.

Molly sobbed quietly into Arthur's sleeve. There was silence now in the bedroom, aside from that. Severus stood off to the side with his arms folded over his chest. Lupin was still slumped in the chair, his eyes half closed.

He let a quarter hour go by before he felt his duty had been done, or at least that he had done all he could and if the boy took a turn for the worse now he wouldn't have an inkling of what else to try.

"I will leave this restorative. Give him a spoonful every hour, with water." He moved toward the door. "If the nurse returns before Hogwarts is back on the floo network, I will send her."

He was half-way through the doorway, eager now to leave.

"Thank you." It was Arthur's voice. Molly was still sobbing.

Severus froze for a moment, and because he hadn't been expecting it, his only response was a kind of twitchy shrug.

There was the grass field again. He didn't even remember how he got outside.

But of course Lupin caught up with him before he could reach the edge of the wards. Panting slightly, he fell into step beside Severus. "You saved that child, Severus."

He didn't think that was worth more than a grunt, so that was his reply.

"And you helped me," Lupin continued. He never had been good at taking a hint. "Thank you. I mean it. I owe you."

Severus, given that it had to be close to morning now and he still had not slept, and that it had been a very long and stressful night and was going to be a long and stressful day, too, was fed up enough that he stopped dead in his tracks. "Lupin. For the very last time, stop using my name like we're some sort of old school chums, stop following me, and, for the love of Merlin, JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME."

Leaving Lupin behind, he stomped the rest of the way to the edge of the wards.

He was stomping up the road toward the school by the time he felt slightly sorry that he hadn't taken Lupin up on the offer to test his potion. Where else was he supposed to find a werewolf who would willingly take it, and one he didn't mind accidentally poisoning?


	5. Morning at Hogwarts

**Chapter 5 : Morning at Hogwarts**

* * *

He nearly slept through breakfast. After the all-night ordeal of his visit to Privet Drive and then the Burrow, he had arrived back in his quarters in time to sleep for an hour and present himself in front of his morning class while feeling like a wrung-out dishrag. He had made it through the day and through dinner, somehow, and then collapsed into bed, not waking until the following morning.

The long sleep had left him feeling a bit off, and he went through his morning routine in a kind of fuzzy stupor.

He arrived in the Great Hall and sat down in his usual place, scowling at his plate until it was filled. He didn't notice anything around him until a newspaper was passed right in front of his face from Pomona to Minerva.

"I can hardly believe it," Minerva sighed with a shake of her head. "I don't know if I ought to be happy or devastated. How the poor boy must have suffered all these long years. And yet -- innocent! I had never wanted to believe he had done it. Never. They had been such close friends. Inseparable."

Severus raised his head. Something... _something_ about that didn't sound right to him. Didn't sound right at all.

Minerva, who had been speaking across him as though he were not there, stopped and looked at him. An odd expression came over her face.

"May I see the paper?"

She looked slightly reluctant as she handed it to him wordlessly.

It was front page news. Of course it would be. Damn Lupin and his stupid bloody hand and his blasted Animagus rat.

He stomped back to his quarters and didn't come out until the next day. He supposed his classes had been cancelled and the dunderheads were happier for it.

No one came looking for him, which alternately irritated and pleased him.

He supposed, after he had the chance to think about it, that his problem had just been taken off his hands. Black was the Potter spawn's godfather, and there was hardly any chance he would leave the boy with the Muggles, Albus or no Albus. Severus didn't have to spend the next six years skulking around Privet Drive in the dead of night, risking his neck every time he went.

He forced himself to be convinced that it was quite for the best. It wasn't as though he had been able to think of a better plan, in all these months.


	6. A Hint of Trouble

**Chapter 6 : A Hint of Trouble**

* * *

It was June. He was seeing the students off, making sure they forgot nothing. Making sure his Slytherins felt his presence until the very last minute of the school year.

He had another reason, and it was this that was making his face ache with the scowl he couldn't force away.

It was June, and the boy was still on Privet Drive with the Muggles.

"Lupin."

Lupin jumped slightly. He had come to Hogwarts out of necessity, and had somehow been roped into helping with the younger students. He had been tying up some parcels, and when he straightened his smile was very stiff. "Professor Snape. What can I do for you?"

"You still owe me, Lupin."

Lupin's smile vanished entirely. "Ah. I see. The potion?"

Lupin looked like he was wishing he had never made his offer, and it made Severus regret that he was letting the opportunity slip through his fingers. He would have enjoyed watching Lupin drink it. After describing the possible side effects, of course. In great detail.

"No, not the potion."

"What, then?" A confused wrinkle appeared between Lupin's brows. Clearly, it had been the thought of the potion that had made him avoid Severus all this time.

Or maybe he thought Severus bore him a grudge over the rat business. Which he did, actually.

"Does Black intend to take guardianship of the Potter boy?" Severus asked bluntly. It was useless to try to get around to it. Any mention of the boy would get Lupin's suspicions up, and at least this way no time was wasted.

Lupin blinked stupidly for a full five seconds. "Er... Yes, we do plan on taking Harry."

"We?" Severus echoed, refusing to comprehend.

Lupin's cheeks colored.

"Well then," Severus said, though it took enormous restraint to continue, "why is the boy still with the Muggles?"

Lupin hesitated. "Albus seems to think... He seems to think Harry is safer there, for now. Sirius's mother died recently, and his house is a right mess, though we think it will be very safe once we've cleared it out a bit."

Severus studied him. He knew that Lupin practically worshipped the ground the old man walked on. Not that that was unusual. Still, if Lupin had seen the boy and still left him there....

"Have you seen the boy?"

"Well, no... Albus asked us to wait. Apparently Harry's not been told much about our world, and of course it wouldn't be good for him to learn very abruptly that he is going to be taken away from his Aunt."

"So you didn't even bother to check on him?"

It was Lupin's turn to study him. "What is this about, Severus?"

With great effort, Severus ignored the fact that the bloody nuisance was misusing his name again. "You might want to visit Privet Drive, Lupin, that's all. You might learn something."

Lupin frowned.

"And yes," Severus said, just so they would be absolutely clear, "I am telling you to do it, and don't let Albus know that you're going."

He left him there, stalking back to the castle.

He had removed all traces of his magic from the boy's cupboard, back when he had been certain Black would take the boy away. The days, however, had dragged into weeks, and he had been forced to return twice more since then, unable to bring himself to let the boy go without food.

He would go one last time, he decided, just to make sure what Lupin and Black found was what he expected them to find. It would be just like the old man to have meddled, somehow.


	7. Petunia Dursley's Awful Afternoon

**Chapter 7 : Petunia Dursley's Awful Afternoon**

* * *

In the middle of a balmy summer afternoon, two sharp pops disturbed the languid silence of Privet Drive. There was no one around to see the two men who appeared without any warning on the sidewalk. It was too hot for anyone in their right mind to be outdoors, and the Muggles who lived on Privet Drive tended to pride themselves on being firmly in their right minds.

"Is that it?"

"Yes, Number 4."

"Come on, then."

Together, they walked up to the front door and knocked.

"Yes?"

"Petunia Dursley?"

"I am."

The taller of the two men looked her over with narrowed eyes. "I've come to see my godson, if you don't mind."

"Your godson?" Petunia's eyes widened. She pulled the door open a little more, her eyes raking over their attire. "No, we don't want your kind here. Go away."

The door slammed abruptly in their faces.

"Huh," said Sirius. "Well, I reckon we'll just leave, then."

"Right."

They exchanged a look, pulled out their wands, and in another few seconds were standing in the front hallway, sneering at an indignant Petunia.

"Why don't you just have a seat over there, Petunia?" Remus said. He saw no particular reason to terrify or harm her. A lot of Muggles who had magical relatives felt the way she did. It was unfortunate, but he wasn't going to get all worked up over it.

"Well?" Sirius asked impatiently. "Where is he? Or do I need to search the house?"

"He... he isn't here," Petunia said, looking more than a little desperate. "He's... out."

"We'll see." Sirius's wand spun around on his palm, pointing at the staircase.

"Wait, Sirius," Remus said, but Sirius was already half way up the stairs, and didn't stop.

A few minutes later he was back, frowning. His wand had gone wonky on him, and a search of the rooms hadn't gone much better.

"What?"

"I don't know. He isn't up there." He let the wand spin again, and again it pointed at the staircase. "Odd."

"Hold on," Remus said, coming around from where he had been standing next to Petunia. "What's that?"

Together, they walked past the stairs and stopped in front of a narrow door.

"What was it Snape said, exactly?" Sirius asked in a low, dangerous tone. His eyes seemed transfixed on the small, barred window.

Remus swallowed. "Not to tell Albus we were going. That's what."

They seemed to reach for the door handle simultaneously, and their fingers brushed. Remus jerked his hand back. "Go ahead."

Sirius hesitated. He couldn't help wishing he wasn't the one who had to throw that door open.

But he did it.

"Oh, fuck." All the air had gone out of his lungs. "I don't bloody believe this."

The boy who had been sitting on a dirty mattress with his knees drawn up and a tattered book spread out over them, looked up with a frightened, trapped expression.

"We aren't going to hurt you, Harry," Remus said. His voice shook badly. "We're friends of your parents."

Harry perked up, the fear replaced with a mixture of curiosity and hopefulness that wouldn't have been possible had he not met another man in just the same way. "Did they ask you to check on me?"

"I'm your godfather, Harry," Sirius said. He knelt down so his face was more on level with the boy's. "Your father was my best friend."

"Oh!" Harry's face broke into a smile. Perhaps this man would give him a picture of his Dad. Then he frowned. Maybe they weren't wizards, after all. "Is that anything like a fairy godmother?"

Remus snorted.

"Er... No."

"We are wizards, though," Remus said. He smiled as the boy looked up at him with gratitude that he had been understood. "And since he is your godfather, he is also your legal guardian."

"That means you'll live with me. Quit using long words, Moony."

Harry seemed to think this over for a few moments, his face very serious.

"You do want to live with me, don't you?" Sirius asked, frowning slightly.

"For Merlin's sake, he's only just met you. How could he?"

Harry looked up, his eyes very large and very bright. "Oh, I do! I really do. Only...." He looked down again. He was thinking of the other man who had visited him. His Mum's best friend. But... he had never asked Harry to live with him. Harry had just hoped he might, someday.

"What is it, Harry?" Remus asked softly. "Will you miss your Aunt?"

"Oh, no," Harry said quickly. His eyes darted fearfully in Petunia's direction.

"Your Uncle?"

Harry paled visibly and didn't reply.

"Your cousin, then?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. He had quite made up his mind. "I wouldn't miss any of them. Please take me away."


	8. The Will and the Magic

**Chapter 8 : The Will and the Magic**

* * *

"Do we understand correctly that this will be the first time the will is read in its entirety?"

"That is correct."

The elderly witch who had posed the question lowered her spectacles and peered over them. Those who were able to follow her gaze would have noticed that she was looking up at Albus Dumbledore, who sat in the stands.

Severus kept his eyes firmly on the proceedings. He was keenly aware that the gallery was full, and that Albus sat off to his right, only twelve or so seats away, and that Lupin and Black were in the row directly in front of him. The seats were elevated, and the action was taking place in the round arena below. The whole thing reminded him of his trial, though this courtroom was very unlike the other.

The will was a roll of parchment tied up with a red ribbon. The wax seal was already broken. The will had been read once before, after the deaths of Lily and James Potter.

"Let the record show that this is the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter, father and mother of Harry James Potter, who is the minor in question."

A spell was cast. The parchment floated upward, surrounded by a pale glow, and unrolled itself.

James Potter's voice filled the cavernous courtroom.

Severus tuned it out. He had not heard it read the last time, but he had read the transcription. He didn't need to hear it in Potter's hated voice. He only cared about one section.

_We grant Albus Dumbledore the power to determine what is best for our child, Harry James Potter, should our choice of guardians be unavailable to assume the responsibility of raising him._

Down in the third row, Remus glanced at Sirius's pale, tight-lipped expression, and covered his white-knuckled hand with his own. It had been torture listening to the will being read by their long-dead best friend, even though Remus had heard it once before. This was Sirius's first time; it was worse for him.

_We grant Sirius Black guardianship of our child._

Severus looked sideways at Albus, but the old man's expression did not reveal anything. He tried to pay attention to the legalese. It was important. There might be something there that the old man could use to keep Black from getting guardianship, and that would be rather unfortunate given how hard it had been for Severus to convince himself that the whole thing was for the best.

_Should Sirius Black be unable to assume the responsibility of raising our child, under no circumstances is any member of his family to be considered eligible to receive guardianship. Likewise, no relation of Lily Potter, ne Evans, is to be granted such consideration._

An excited murmur broke out through the crowd, and many eyes riveted onto Albus Dumbledore. The old man seemed oblivious to the scrutiny.

_Frank and Alice Longbottom are our second choice, and we grant them guardianship of our child should our first choice be unavailable._

Remus gripped Sirius's hand, as much to comfort himself as to comfort Sirius, who had winced at the mention of the Longbottoms. Frank, older by ten years, had been Sirius's mentor.

It was over. The next section concerned the child's rights to the Potter fortune. Severus sighed and prepared to tune it out.

_I, Lily Evans Potter, wish to make an addendum to our joint statement._

Severus felt all color draining from his face. He had not been prepared to hear her voice.

_Should both Sirius Black and the Longbottoms be unable to care for my child, Harry James Potter, I ask the courts to consider Severus Snape._

Severus's blood froze in his veins. He was only vaguely aware of Lupin and Black twisting in their seats to look up at him with shock and, in Black's case, utter outrage, and that what had been a low murmur through the gallery a short while ago was now more like an excited roar.

_My one stipulation is that he be considered only if his allegiance to Voldemort --"_

There was a collective gasp, as expected.

_-- has been severed. Severus Snape was my closest childhood friend, and has pledged to protect my child regardless of his own allegiances. If he has turned away from the Dark, I ask that he be considered suitable for the purposes of guardianship._

"Order! ORDER!"

There was such an uproar that it was a miracle anyone heard. It took a full ten minutes for the courtroom to return to some semblance of normalcy, and during this time Severus sat stiffly, staring straight ahead, trying to pretend he could not hear.

The rest of the will was not read, and instead a short recess was called. Slowly, the courtroom emptied as judges and gawkers alike filed out to resume their gossiping elsewhere, over food and drink.

"What the bloody hell? What the bloody hell, Snape?"

Severus shrugged half-heartedly. He felt drained and exhausted. Hearing Lily's voice, not to mention her words, had been both terrible and wonderful.

She had believed him.

She had forgiven him.

If she hadn't died, but lived long enough to find out....

He shook his head. This was not the time or the place, with Black glaring at him and Lupin hovering like he thought he might need to break up a duel any second now. "I did not know. I don't see that it matters, regardless."

"You bet your arse it doesn't matter," Sirius said, glaring at the git. What had Lily been thinking? Bloody evil Death Eater. Always had been Dark. Always would be. "I was their first and best choice. Come on, Moony."

Remus tried to send Snape what he hoped was an apologetic glance as Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the exit. He had been trying to get the man alone for the past week, to find out what he knew about Harry's ordeal at the Dursleys. They had been forced to leave the child there until the issue of guardianship could be resolved, and he hadn't felt at ease since. He suspected that Snape had been to see Harry at least once, if he knew of the conditions in which Harry lived, and even from the short time they had been able to spend with Harry he realized that the boy was not entirely ignorant about their world. Someone had visited him, and Remus had concluded rather swiftly that it hadn't been Albus.

When they were gone, Severus sank shakily back into his seat, rubbing his forehead. His head throbbed dully.

Now that it had all started to sink in, he couldn't keep back the thought that he should have been the boy's guardian all along. Black had been in prison and the Longbottoms worse than dead, and that had left him.

But Lily's portion of the will had never been read, her voice never heard.

Damn Albus Dumbledore and his damn plans for the boy, whatever they were. The boy had suffered through four years of cold, hunger, and neglect at the Dursleys, when Severus could have... could have....

He shook his head suddenly. Why was he entertaining these thoughts, and where had they come from? Why in Merlin's name would he want the Potter brat underfoot? Black was the first choice, and good riddance, really. The only reason Severus cared at all was the double bind of his promise to Lily and his Vow to Albus.

He remained sitting there until slowly the courtroom filled again.

"Order!"

An expectant silence descended over the court room.

"Witnesses will now be called."

Severus scowled. This was what he had hoped wouldn't happen, but had suspected would. Guardianship of The-Boy-Who-Lived was not an everyday matter. The battle was about to begin, with Albus Dumbledore in one corner and Sirius Black in the other. Severus wasn't in the least happy about which side he felt compelled to support.

"We call... Albus Dumbledore..."

Albus rose smoothly from his seat and came down the steps, settling in one of the chairs that had appeared in a half-circle in front of the panel of judges.

"Sirius Black..."

Sirius exchanged a look with Remus, who nodded encouragingly and tried to smile, before making his way down. He eyed the chair suspiciously before sitting down.

"Severus Snape."

Severus sat frozen for several seconds, refusing to believe that he had heard right, but knowing with dreadful certainty that he had. Black had leaped out of his chair and was looking up at him with an expression that was equal parts outrage and disbelief. With effort, Severus forced himself to rise and walk down to the arena. He sat down as far from Black as he could, on the other end of the half-circle, with Albus between them and separated from each by four seats.

After a few moments, Black sat down again, though his expression did not change, and Severus let out a slow breath. He certainly didn't want that lunatic throwing some kind of fit in front of the panel.

"Albus Dumbledore," said a portly wizard who had been studying the Potters's will closely through a magnifying lens. "As the child's parents trusted you to know what would be best for him, we ask you now: What do you believe is best for Harry Potter?"

"I believe Harry Potter is best served by remaining with his mother's kin," Albus said smoothly.

"Against the wishes of his parents, and in direct violation of the terms of their will?"

"Given the unique circumstances, yes."

The wizard wrote something in a leather book in front of him. "So noted. Sirius Black, are you in a position to assume guardianship of the child?"

"I am." Sirius tried to wipe what he knew was still a thunderous look from his face, and to sound convinced of his own words. In truth, the house he had inherited was broken-down and filthy, and there hadn't been enough time to do much about it. He wasn't going to tell them he'd been staying with Remus in a one-room shack in the woods.

"So noted." A witch on his left learned over to whisper something, and the wizard frowned. "Is it true you co-habit with a registered werewolf?"

Sirius bit back the first words that sprang to his tongue They had known this might come up... Remus had warned him. "Remus Lupin is a lifelong friend, a trained wizard, and a valued member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"But he is a werewolf, and you do not deny the charge?"

"The charge?" Sirius repeated, unable to stop his eyes from narrowing. "What law would I be breaking by living with him?"

The wizard ignored him. "Severus Snape, as you were named in the will, we ask you: Are you in a position to assume guardianship of the child?"

Severus stared at him. His eyes darted toward Black, who had made a violent sort of movement that he caught in his peripheral vision, and then to Albus, who was sucking on one of those blasted lemon sherbets and looked completely unconcerned, as if the question just posed had been about the weather.

"Wait a minute!" Sirius glared at the panel of judges and then at Snape. "He's a... he's..." He didn't finish, but trailed off, because as he looked at Snape his eyes followed Snape's gaze and alighted onto Albus's face, where, for just one second, a curiously victorious look flashed.

Very slowly, their eyes met over Albus's head, and somehow, for the first time in their long and sordid history, they seemed to have seen a thing and managed to interpret it in exactly the same way.

"Yes?" prompted the wizard.

"Er... Well, he wasn't the first choice... is what I meant."

"We recognize that this case is unusual. We ask again: Severus Snape, are you in a position to assume guardianship of the child?"

"I am," Severus said carefully. "I believe, however, that Black is a more suitable choice. As for his choice of companions, I happen to have developed a potion that, while not a cure, renders a werewolf harmless by allowing the infected individual to retain full control of his faculties."

Over in the stands, Severus could see that Lupin had gone a nasty shade of greenish-grey. He felt rather pleased that he had brought the testing of his potion back into play.

The wizard spent a full minute writing rapidly, his quill flying. "Your opinion is noted."

Severus glanced at Albus. It was impossible to know what the old man was thinking. There was no twinkle in his eyes, now. Did that mean displeasure? Disappointment? It was impossible to tell. If the old man had hoped that by pitting them against one another he would cause neither to be deemed acceptable, that plan seemed to have been derailed by the unexpected miracle of Black thinking before speaking.

"Albus Dumbledore," spoke an ancient looking witch. "You believe it is in the child's best interests to remain with his mother's sister --" She checked her notes. "-- one Petunia Dursley?"

"I do indeed. While they are Muggles, their home is impeccable and Harry is raised alongside their own son, who is the same age."

"WHAT? THEY KEEP HIM IN A CUPBOARD! THEY DON'T FEED HIM! IT'S RIGHT THERE IN YOUR BLOODY NOTES!"

"Control yourself, Mr. Black, or you will be removed from this courtroom!"

Sirius sank back down, swallowing.

"We have a report, yes. Albus Dumbledore, can you shed any light on these allegations?"

"I believe," Albus said calmly, "that Mr. Black's upbringing may color his view of Harry's Muggle relatives."

Severus glanced at Black. Black looked outraged and furious. If this went on much longer, Severus was sure Black wouldn't be able to control himself.

The quill flew again. "So noted. Are there witnesses other than yourself, Mr. Black?"

"Remus Lupin was with me," Sirius said bitterly. He could see exactly what was coming. From the look Snape had just given him, he guessed he wasn't the only one.

"Witnesses with less bias?"

Severus breathed in. "I am a witness to the long-term neglect suffered by the Potters's child at the hands of his relatives."

He couldn't help seeing the flash of anger that passed over Albus's face. Damn. Well, it looked like it was necessary, and, anyway, he was already in too deep.

"Speak."

"I first saw the boy over the winter holidays. The boy is monitored in many ways, as you surely know. An alarm sent me to the residence one night, where I found the boy sleeping on a broken mattress in a cupboard under the stairs. He was hypothermic and suffering from malnutrition."

The witch looked at him over the top of her spectacles. "Are you willing to submit memories of this encounter?"

"I am," Severus said reluctantly. If there was anything he despised, it was having his mind riffled through.

He tried to ignore the murmur of the crowd while a pensieve was brought out. The idea of having all these people see and judge his actions on that night was unnerving. He suddenly was very sure that he had not done everything the law required of someone in his position.

The memory was extracted. Black, along with every other man and woman in the courtroom, leaned forward expectantly. Severus especially hated for Black to see this memory.

It was painful to watch it. Painful to see the expression on his own face when he had thrown open the cupboard door and first laid eyes on the child. Painful to watch himself struggle to provide even the minimum amount of care. Had he really done that little, that night? No wonder his conscience had been prickling.

He couldn't help glancing at Black, when it was over, but Black was still staring at the mist above the pensieve, though there was no longer anything to see.

Slowly, his senses returned to him. He realized that the courtroom was in absolute chaos.

"ORDER! ORDER!"

At last, the crowd quieted.

The elderly wizard who had the leather book stopped writing at last, shaking out a cramp in his wrist. "Severus Snape, do you swear that this memory is accurate and unaltered?"

"I do."

"So noted. Tell us, did you report your findings?"

"I reported my findings to Albus Dumbledore," Severus said. This time, he would not have looked over at Albus for anything. "He assured me he would take appropriate action."

"So noted."

"But he did not."

The wizard's quill froze.

"I visited the boy again in February, and found his condition unchanged. I continued to provide food and other items of comfort over the next several months. In that time, I do not believe Albus Dumbledore nor anyone else checked on the boy's condition."

The panel of judges was silent for what seemed like an age.

"Are you prepared to provide evidence of these visits?"

"I am."

Severus could feel Black's stare on him, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Black anymore than he could look at Albus.

The judges were speaking, a silencing charm over the long table. There was a lot of gesturing and outraged expressions, until, at long last, one by one they nodded in ascent.

"We are prepared to make a decision on the first count. The boy shall be removed from the care of his relatives, Petunia and Vernon Dursley."

Severus allowed himself a deep breath.

But it was not over, and he sat up a little straighter, waiting for the rest.

"Albus Dumbledore," said the ancient witch. "While we dismiss your recommendation that the child be returned to his relatives, it remains true that the Potters placed great value on your opinion. We have two contenders for guardianship of the child. Have you an opinion about either of them?"

"I believe," Albus said, still calmly though his tone was not as smooth as before, "that Severus Snape would be the better choice, of the two."

Severus couldn't help swiveling around to almost face him. What was the old man up to now? Trying to keep the boy close at hand? Thinking Severus would want to wash his hands of the boy at the earliest opportunity? Some particular grudge against Black or Lupin, or both?

"You seem to have an objection, Mr. Snape."

"I merely think," Severus said, trying to force his face into a neutral expression, "that out of the two, I am not the best choice. I teach, I have my research... Sirius Black is the better choice, in my opinion."

"A difficult decision, indeed," said another one of the judges. "The Potters were quite clear that Mr. Black is their first choice. But you implied, Mr. Snape, that you visited the child often. Has the child not formed a closer bond with you than with Mr. Black, whose statement reads that he has seen the child only once?"

"I..." Severus hesitated. Why in bloody hell were they so against Black? This was entirely too difficult. "I do not believe a strong bond has formed. I never gave the boy reason to think I could, or would, take him to live with me."

"And I have," cut in Sirius, unable to stand it. "I introduced myself as his godfather and told him about my intentions. Harry was happy to know he was going to live with me!"

"You are out of order, Mr. Black," said the ancient witch, glaring at him.

Sirius slumped back in his seat. It wasn't his imagination, was it? They had already made up their minds. Damn it. And what was Snape up to, anyway? Since when were they on the same side?

The judges were speaking again, behind their silencing charm. It took them longer this time to reach a decision, and there were papers being passed and clerks running to and fro.

"We will now call additional witnesses. We call... Kingsley Shacklebolt..."

Severus frowned. An Auror. He didn't know him, but knew he was an Order member. What did Shacklebolt know about him?

"Arthur Weasley... and Poppy Pomfrey."

Severus's eyes darted from one to the next of the three people now making their way down to the arena. Pomfrey he thought he could understand. Weasley? For Black, he supposed.

"Auror Shacklebolt, we understand until recently you worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"

"I did."

"Do you have reason to believe the minor in question, Harry James Potter, would be endangered by close proximity to Remus Lupin, a registered werewolf?"

"No."

"No?" asked the witch, looking rather shocked. She actually removed her spectacles and stared at Shacklebolt. "No?"

"No," repeated Shacklebolt, raising one eyebrow. "Remus Lupin is cautious and conscientious about taking the proper precautions. The boy would be in no danger."

The witch turned to Pomfrey with a rather sour expression. "You are prepared to speak on behalf of Sirius Black?"

Severus blanched before he realized that this was, in fact, a pleasing turn of events. Let them all speak on Black's behalf, rather than his.

"I am. He has been under my care since his release from prison. In that time, I have heard him speak of Harry many times. He always intended to raise the boy. He has been unwavering in his intent to give the child a proper, loving home."

"You believe he would make a suitable guardian?"

"I certainly do," Pomfrey said pleasantly.

"So noted. Arthur Weasley, you are prepared to speak on behalf of Severus Snape?"

Severus stared, dumbfounded, at Weasley, who was looking slightly uncomfortable.

"That is correct. Snape, he... er... he teaches two of my children, who attend Hogwarts, and he saved the life of my nine-year-old son, Percy. I am prepared to state that Severus Snape would... er... be a good guardian."

The silencing charm went up again. Severus sat uncomfortably, refusing to look at any of the people sitting in the chairs next to him.

"Does anyone have any other relevant information to present before we make our final decision?" The witch looked at each witness in turn, stopping on Albus.

"I believe," said Albus, "that the child's own wishes should be taken into consideration."

"Outrageous," muttered one of the judges.

The ancient witch, however, nodded. "It is highly unusual, but hearing what the child has to say may be helpful in this case." She waved her hand and a clerk appeared at her side, looking anxious. "Bring the boy in."

Only a few minutes passed before the doors opened. The clerk who had gone to fetch the boy led the way, with a small, pathetic figure trailing behind, dressed in white, as was typical of children under Ministry care. The starkness of the clothing brought out the color of his eyes, but highlighted his thinness and pale face.

Instead of the witness stand, a tall chair was brought out and placed at the side of the judges table, and the boy was lifted onto it.

Harry, who had been awoken early that morning by a ruckus at the Dursleys, then taken to a strange and frightening place by strangers who poked and prodded him and whispered about him in odd voices, kept his head down. He wished he were back in the cupboard. He could hear many people talking all around him. Maybe millions of people. He could feel them watching him. There were so many of them, but he felt so alone.

"Harry Potter. We are here to decide your future. Two men wish to become your guardian. One of them is Severus Snape. The other is Sirius Black. Have you a preference?"

Harry looked up at the woman who had spoken. She was old. Older than anyone he had ever seen.

He hadn't understood any of what she had said to him, but as he looked up, he saw for the first time who was sitting right across from him, almost close enough to reach out and touch.

But they did not speak to him, just looked at him with odd, worried expressions on their faces. He didn't understand.

It was a stranger who spoke to him, a man who looked just as ancient as the woman did, and who had a very long beard. "Which one would you like to live with, Harry, my boy? It's all right to point. You don't need to speak."

Harry's arm twitched. He had the most funny urge to point at one of the men... the one who had been his Mum's best friend.

He frowned a little. No, that wasn't right. He had told the other man, the one who had come with his friend who had the kind brown eyes, the one who had been his dad's best friend, that he would live with him.

Oh, but why did his arm twitch like that? He stared at the old man with the long beard. He had such bright blue eyes, but it hurt to look into them -- it hurt! He tried to look away, but found he couldn't.

"Go ahead, Harry, tell us," Albus prompted.

Harry rocked backward and forward, unable to look away, but unable to do what was being asked of him. Why did the old man want him to choose? Why didn't anyone else speak? Did they want him? Did anyone want him? Why didn't they tell him?

He rocked backward. Forward. His eyes were burning, but he could not blink or close them. He had to keep staring into those terrible blue eyes that hurt him.

"Albus, what are you doing?" Severus demanded. He had thought, when Albus had first locked eyes with the boy, that some form of Legilimency was being performed, but now he was not certain of it. The boy's face was twisted in pain, and, oddly, so was Albus's, now.

"Albus Dumbledore," said one of the judges, rising from his seat, "stop at once!"

But Albus seemed not to have heard. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and the old man and the boy seemed locked in mute combat, unblinking and unaware of anything around them.

Sirius reached for his wand, not caring what kind of transgression it was to do so inside a courtroom.

"No, Black."

"Shut up, Snape!" But Sirius did pause. He didn't know what he had been going to do. What good was a wand when you didn't know what to do with it?

"DUMBLEDORE!" thundered the ancient witch. "STOP AT ONCE!"

The boy's scar was bleeding, the blood dripping down into his eye and from there running down his cheek like tears.

Bolts of bright blue electricity rose through the floor, leaping upward into the air and exploding in all directions. The stands started to empty as panicked witches and wizards ran for the exits.

Harry, in the middle of it all, didn't know anything but the pain. He could not tear his eyes away from the old man's, but something inside him was fighting to get out. He only knew that it was pain like he had never felt.

Just moments before, when he had looked up and seen the two men, his Mum's best friend and his Dad's, and understood what was wanted from him, he'd only had a moment to think. He thought maybe that was what the pain was. It hurt to want to go with one, but also the other.

Then the pain had come. He was alone with that terrible pain.

Suddenly, something seemed the explode out of him. He saw the old man's blue eyes widen impossibly, and then the old man was thrown backwards, off his chair.

Something else was happening to him. Something odd that felt like static electricity running all across his skin. And inside him, too. It seemed to come in waves, and each wave was stronger than the previous.

He became aware of screaming all around him. Terrified, he closed his eyes.

"It's okay, Harry," he murmured to himself, just like he sometimes did in his cupboard. He thought of the man who had visited him, the magic that never let the very worst things happen, and his beautiful Mum smiling down at him from her picture. "It's okay... I'm not scared. Are you scared?"

"No," said Harry, his voice shaking. He thought of the two men who had visited him, the magic that never let the very worst things happen, and their promise to come back for him just as soon as they could. "I'm not scared."

"Oh. Good." Harry squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut. Something was still fighting to get out of him. He could feel another wave of electricity building up inside him.

Sirius Black and Severus Snape, now joined by Remus Lupin, who had scrambled over overturned chairs to join them in the arena, were knocked off their feet by a powerful wave of magic. The floor seemed to rear up, stones crumbling, sending them tumbling down the steep sides. At once, every torch lighting the courtroom went out with a hiss.

Then, all was silent.

"WHERE'S HARRY?" Sirius yelled when he had clawed his way out from under the remnants of a table. "Oh, fuck. Remus, where are you?" He took one step and stumbled, falling to his knees. His hand brushed across something small and warm. "Fuck."

"Sirius?"

A light flickered, and Sirius could see Remus trying to climb over broken stones to get to him. In the light of the wand, Sirius saw what was lying in front of him. "Harry!"

He shook the small body. Harry moaned. Alive, then. He picked him up carefully off the cold stone and hugged him to his chest.

Another light cast its glow across the mangled floor. "Black? I have the boy."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, Snape? I have him."

"Don't be ridiculous --"

The three men finally reached each other.

Remus looked from Sirius to Snape, and back again, and then at what each had in his arms, and then he said what all of them were thinking, but the other two were too stunned to say.

"Oh, fuck."


End file.
